


Picture of You?

by Basmathgirl



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, Post-Episode s02e06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4909612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basmathgirl/pseuds/Basmathgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being caught thinking "If only there was a talking picture of you" can be a bit embarrassing at times, Hardy discovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture of You?

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** not mine, not ever, sadly...  
>  **A/N:** written for [cookie-moi](cookie-moi.tumblr.com), because I promised.

It had happened at the worse possible moment imaginable. And in public. How would he ever live that down? Not now, not ever; he was sure of it. 

They had innocently decided to fill part of their day by strolling down to the quay, to show Fred the boats in the marina before heading along the waterway to grab a quick bite to eat. 

So good so far.

And then Tom had phoned Ellie up, breaking into their peaceful moment of pseudo familyhood, where he could pretend all of this was normal and that they weren’t hiding from the world in general as they licked their wounds.

“Tom, what’s the matter?” Ellie had answered her mobile phone, feeling a little flustered by the intrusion. She wasn’t doing anything wrong but suddenly she felt insanely guilty.

“Can you come and pick me up, Mum?” Tom hesitantly asked. “I’m sorry but I forgot my bus pass this morning and can’t get home.”

She had glared across the table at Hardy, her eyes flashing her irritation at this inconvenience. “Alright, but don’t move from there. Not one step. Do you hear me?”

“Yes Mum,” was clearly heard as she ended the call.

“Come on,” Ellie encouraged Hardy and she began to collect together their used things in order to tidy up before she hoisted Fred into her arms. “We’ve got to go and get Tom.”

“What’s happened?” Hardy asked, swivelling the pushchair into a position to aid her efforts to leave. 

“He’s got himself stranded at the art gallery. Typical!” she spat out. “All I am is a taxi service.”

In light of her mood, he felt it best that he merely nod in consolation; and then followed her out as quickly as he could. 

The gallery was an eerily quiet place as they walked along the smooth flooring as quickly as they could. Fortunately, Fred had fallen asleep in the car on the way there, so Hardy had opted to push the buggy whilst Ellie walked on ahead. 

Eventually they entered an anteroom full of giggling schoolboys amongst whom was Tom Miller, looking rather despondent. Hardy turned his head to make out what the boys were so amused by, and found himself confronted by a large nude portrait of an inclined woman. Her generous proportions were clearly displayed for all to see. No wonder the boys were having a field day with seeing the painting. 

One of the boys snickered, “That looks just like your mum.”

Without knowing he was doing so, Hardy turned his head and squinted to see if there was any comparison. The woman had short, dark curly hair that framed her face, and a pleasing amply proportioned body that spoke of fertility and sexual vigour. He had to agree that there was some resemblance in the woman’s features, with her faint scowl or disdainful expression. As for her body… well, only time could tell if that was the case too. 

Seeing this thoughtful action, another lad commented, “Is he your new dad?” 

Oh! Several pairs of inquisitive eyes closely regarded him. Hardy immediately felt he’d been caught on the back foot. How would he get out of this one? 

Without conscious decision, both Hardy and Ellie sought each other out; their eyes met and they exchanged a look that promised this would not be discussed. Ever. So he hastily bent down and checked that Fred was sufficiently fastened in the buggy, leaving Ellie to deal with it. Which she did, with her usual flare. Luckily Ellie had already taken charge.

“I’m warning you lot, zip it or you’ll feel more than my anger up your backside if you’re not careful,” she threatened the offending gaggle by stabbing her index finger in their direction. “Tom, get your bag,” she then ordered, causing them all to respectfully step back. 

To add to Hardy’s horror, when Tom reached his side he whispered to him, “You’ve gone all pink. Thought you should know.”

“It’s very warm in here,” Hardy excused himself, adjusting the tie at his throat before steering the pushchair towards the exit. 

“Do you want me to take over with Fred?” Tom politely offered.

“No. No, I’m fine,” Hardy insisted; and silently prayed his thanks that Ellie had been distracted by something important spied hanging out of Tom’s backpack. 

As she continued to lead them back to the car, all the while berating Tom, Hardy was left with his thoughts. His ‘naked woman in a painting’ thoughts as he progressed along the pavement outside. Glancing back at the gallery, he noted a sign denoting the opening times and the accompanying website. Hmm. He wondered if the shop did online pictures too, or had a copy of the catalogue, and made a mental note to investigate that further when he could. For science sake, of course.


End file.
